


Sigh in Tiny Deaths

by bubblebangbaby



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Fingering, Glove Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Paranoia, Porn with Feelings, Safer Sex, Soft sex, Splitting, akechi will always be the villain of his own story, guest starring akechi's mental illnesses, kind of, most of the feelings are bad, nothing good comes of this, until the day he dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 08:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14733284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblebangbaby/pseuds/bubblebangbaby
Summary: Akechi finds himself playing right into Akira's hands. His very talented hands. But when your mind is your own worst enemy, kindness can be the worst cruelty of all.Written for the Dreamwidth kinkmeme:All I want is Akira x any of the guys (super weak for Yusuke or Akechi) experimenting in bed for the first time and arguing about who gets to top. Akira is 99.9% a top and he’s about to prove to his lover that they are, in fact, a bottom, no matter how adamantly they claim otherwise. Maybe it’s a competition to see who can get the other off better and faster? It’s up to you.+Arrogant sexy and suave af Akira surprising his partner with his finesse++Akira’s partner starting off uber confident and stubborn and desperately struggling to retain their facade, even as they’re losing miserably+++Akira turning his partner into an incoherent mess the minute he fingerbangs them





	Sigh in Tiny Deaths

**Author's Note:**

> _So many blazing orchids  
>  Burning in your throat  
> Making you choke  
> Making you sigh  
> Sigh in tiny deaths  
> So Melt  
> My lover, melt_   
>  [ Siouxie and the Banshees - Melt](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZRlv1L8TfUk)

“Kurusu, ah—”

“C’mon, up you get...” He’s yanking at Akechi’s pants and underwear, trying to strip him bare even though he’s still flat against the bed. Embarrassing. Akechi slaps at his hands.

“Would you stop? I can do it myself.” The other boy rocks back on his heels with a hungry grin.

“Hey now, I’m trying to pamper you here.” Akechi just grunts in annoyance and rips the last of his clothes off. Why on earth did he agree to fuck this insufferable bastard again? No time to ponder that, because the instant he’s fully naked, Kurusu pounces, mouth on his and hands everywhere. His protests come out as pathetic whimpers, what with Kurusu thrusting his tongue between his lips and hiking Akechi’s legs up to wrap around his waist.

When he slides cool fingers along the cleft of his ass, though, Akechi’s had enough. He hooks one heel around Kurusu’s knee, grabs him by the wrists and flips him, pinning him against the mattress with a snarl.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he growls, digging nails into his skin for emphasis. Kurusu’s shit-eating grin doesn’t even falter.

“Well, I thought we were gonna fuck, _Goro._ ” Impertinent little shit.

“I don’t bottom, _Kurusu._ ” He smiles down at him and there’s steel in it.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Kurusu says innocently.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not a thing. I guess we’re at an impasse then, hmm?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned...” Akechi keeps his hold on Kurusu’s wrists and thrusts one knee between his legs, spreading them wide enough for him to settle between them, settle the weight of his body on top of him and nip hard at his jawline. He can hear him sigh, feel his hips rise to meet him, and the soothing rush of control settles into his chest again. He’s in charge here. He gets to decide how much to give, and when. Kurusu wraps a leg around his thigh and grinds harder against him, the pressure warm and sweet and heady. That’s more like it.

There’s a twist, a flick of his wrists, and suddenly Kurusu’s hands are free and pinning Akechi’s behind his back. He drops heavily onto the other boy’s chest with a gasp. What…? One iron-fingered hand grips both of his wrists hard while the other tangles in his hair, yanking his head back just hard enough to sting. The electric rush of pain crackles from his scalp all the way down his spine, and he groans against the soft crook of Kurusu’s shoulder.

His voice purrs low and deep against his ear, “I think you protest too much, Goro… You like it like this, don’t you?” The fingers tighten in his hair and he’s shuddering involuntarily, hips twitching against Kurusu’s. There’s a high, soft cry floating in the air; is that coming from him? The brief glow of regained control curdles into the sick feeling of shame knotting in his belly. He just wishes his traitorous dick would get on the same page, instead of throbbing eagerly as it is against the other boy’s skin.

Kurusu releases the grip on his hair, but keeps his wrists held tight and locks his legs around Goro’s, neatly immobilizing him. He moans in frustration against Kurusu’s neck. The fingertips on his scalp turn gentle, stroking and scratching so lightly, so thoroughly, the softness of it leaving him desperately weak. There’s a soft pressure at the crown of his head, against his temple. Kurusu’s lips.

There’s his voice in his ear again, and he shivers. “Mm… I won’t force you, of course. But... I think you want this more than you’ll let yourself admit.” Goro tries to protest, but the feeling of blunt nails dancing against his scalp, warm lips on his temple, derail his train of thought. “How about this, hm? We’ll trade off and see who’s better.” His fist tightens in Goro’s hair again, and it sends stinging pleasure down his spine. The thief’s breath is warm against his ear when he laughs low and dark. It takes a moment for Goro to pull himself together enough to process the challenge, for his pride to rear its head again, for the disgust at how quickly he’s succumbed to Kurusu’s fondling to churn within him. He shakes the other boy’s hand off of his head and snarls.

“All right then, Kurusu. But I get to fuck you first.” He just laughs and kisses the top of his head again, completely unconcerned.

“Aww, but I was having fun. How about an extra challenge, then? If I go first, I’ll only use my fingers.” So impertinent…! He ought to be angrier. He ought to not only refuse, but demand, pin the other boy down and fuck him till he can’t remember his own name. Kurusu trails soft fingertips up and down Goro’s neck as he waits for the answer. Something small and needy and fragile seems to unfurl deep in his chest at the touch, and he finds himself speaking before his rational brain can catch up.

“Fine. Go ahead.” _What_? God, what is he even _thinking_? Of all the people to trust, so suddenly… He hasn’t allowed this since—no, don’t think about that right now. Akira shifts under him, moving them both so he can slide out of the bed, placing a kiss on Goro’s brow as he does.

“Good. Give me one sec, then.” The strange feeling in his chest is growing. Goro lies back against the pillows and tries not to dwell on it. Yet again he wonders what the hell he’s thinking, but the frustration is easing away. He pushes up on his elbows and lets his gaze crawl over Akira’s body, arched taut as he leans over, digging for something in a box at the foot of the bed. Well, it’s not like he hasn’t made poor decisions based on lust before. What’s one more added to the pile? _Just let him do what he wants, it’ll be worth it for the opportunity to take it out on him tenfold after…_

A sharp snap startles him out of his leering, makes him jump awkwardly. But it’s just Akira, snapping on… latex gloves? He snorts and shakes his head, irritated with his own jumpiness. “Really, Kurusu? Where on earth did you manage to find exam gloves in that shade of red?” Akira cackles proudly and waggles his fingers at him.

“Home shopping channel?”

“I don’t believe you.” The bastard just laughs again. He _knows_ , surely. He’s so damned cocksure in the metaverse, adjusting those bright red gloves after a battle like he’s putting on a show. It’s not like he hasn’t seen how he's caught Goro's eye as he does it, or Skull’s, or Queen’s. Not like he isn’t fully and gleefully of aware how many of them crave this sight before Goro right now, the grand trickster stripped naked but still in control, thoroughly unashamed…

“Earth to Goro? Hello?” His train of thought derails by those bright gloves fluttering in front of his face, by the wide, cocky grin on Akira’s face. Asshole.

“What?” he snaps.

“You were zoning out. Although...” He hops onto the bed and straddles Goro’s lap, quick and light as a cat. “You must have been thinking about something nice...” And oh… _oh._ Cherry-red fingertips are tracing up and down Goro’s length, light and gentle, but crackling with electricity. God, he’s so hard already, and hardly even realized it until he was touched. Akira swipes a drop of fluid off the tip of Goro’s cock and licks it off his finger, never breaking eye contact, and he shivers from watching the shameless little show. Akira’s pressed close to him now, close enough to kiss, and he splays those bright-gloved hands right against his chest to press him down against the bed, ever-so-lightly. He falls back and tugs Akira down on top of him, not a hint of resistance left in his body, like Akira has reached inside his chest to work him like a puppet.

Just as light, as gentle as everything else he’s done so far, Akira cups Goro’s face in his hands to kiss him softly but thoroughly, tongue exploring his mouth with the utmost sweetness that makes him quiver. His body has clearly made its decision, but Goro’s mind is at war with itself. _What is_ _ **wrong**_ _with him? Is he drawin_ _g_ _this out to be petty, or is he too stupid to_ _just_ _pin him down and fuck him hard,_ _treat him_ _like a rival, like an enemy and not… and not…_

One bright hand trails down his neck as he kisses him, softly caresses his chest, his flank, the hollow of his hipbone. He doesn’t break the kiss even as he takes Goro in hand and draws a low moan out of somewhere deep inside him. _It feels good it feels good no no please it feels so good don’t stop… don’t stop…_ Akira’s smirk doesn’t even faze him now; his senses are narrowed down to the beacon of pleasure as that silky smooth, gloved hand works up and down the length of his cock, using his own precum to ease the friction. Fuck, does he usually leak this much? He’s barely doing anything, and yet…

Slowly, Akira breaks the kiss and pulls away to press his forehead to Goro’s, smiling down at him… almost sincerely. His hand doesn’t stop moving, gentle but firm, fingers rolling against him just right. “Good…?” he murmurs.

“Good...” he whimpers. His screaming pride, the shame and rage and protective shell of ego that make up the constant drumbeat of his consciousness seem suddenly… muffled. Muted. Wrapped in sweet cotton and tucked away beneath warmth and pleasure. He’s floating in it. He lets his hands drape over Akira’s wiry frame and lets his eyes fall closed, feeling strangely adrift. He shouldn’t be letting his guard down like this. But it seems far less important than it did a moment ago.

When he feels the other boy’s lips make their way down his throat, across his shoulders, the hollow of his collarbones,down the plane of his belly, all he can do is lean back and sigh. The soft animal of his body is fully in charge now, and he feels strangely content to follow its lead. When Akira’s mouth takes the place of his hand, he moans softly and buries his own hands in soft black hair. The other boy’s tongue swirls and gloved hands stroke and caress him as he sucks and bobs. He’s good at this… The question bubbles up in his mind of who else he’s been blowing; and it spawns a vision of him on his knees for that pretty artist boy, or the vulgar thug, maybe both at once. A throb of pleasure has him moaning again, pulling Akira’s head down, thrusting deeper into his sweet mouth.

Akira just shakes his head and pulls away, smirking down at him. He doesn’t say a word, but it’s there in his cocky smile. _Who do you think is in charge here, hm?_ Goro growls in frustration and slumps back against the pillow.

“Would you hurry up and get this over with?” he mutters. _Or just finish sucking me off, that was nice…_ Akira’s just watches him curiously for a moment, like he’s been working out a riddle and just got a new hint handed to him. There’s that uneasy feeling again.

Whatever Akira might be thinking, it doesn’t cause him to falter. He stretches out on top of Goro fully, his weight pressing down on him, their foreheads touching. It seems like every inch of his skin is meeting every inch of his own, that his breath, slow and steady, is working into both sets of lungs. By the time Akira’s mouth meets his, Goro has his arms wrapped around him, clutching him close.

“Mmm...” Akira purrs against his lips, his deep voice buzzing pleasantly through his ribcage, “I’d rather take my time…” He flashes a cheeky grin and kisses Goro once more. “But if you insist...” He sits up and moves Goro’s legs further apart, so he can nestle between them comfortably. With an utterly unnecessary flourish, he pulls a bottle out from somewhere unknown and pours a bit of liquid into the palm of one gloved hand. Of course. Goro closes his eyes and braces himself for what he knows is coming now.

Except it doesn’t. Instead of slick fingers or a cock plunging into him, it’s just Akira’s hands around him, gliding up and down his shaft, deft fingers rolling across the head with every stroke as they had before. The lube makes for a strange sensation, strange and delicious, almost like fucking and nothing like fucking. Akira shifts to nuzzle and kiss at his inner thigh, and something in him shifts again, unfamiliar sensations exploding suddenly into rich, sweet pleasure that leaves him gasping. He’s sure Akira is gloating now. He doesn’t care. He’s tangling his hands in his own hair and squirming under slick, strong hands and soft lips, knees falling open wider so he can thrust up and he’s panting out Akira’s name—and just as suddenly, everything stops. He whines and pushes himself up to glare down at the boy smirking up from between his legs.

“You—you stopped...”

“Mm. Looked like you were close.” He plants soft kisses along the hollow of one hipbone, and Goro lets himself fall back against the pillow with a tiny shiver. “I’m certainly having too much fun to let it end here…” There’s another jolt of warm pleasure as Akira’s mouth engulfs him again, sucking and teasing deliciously until he has to bite down on his lip to keep from crying out.

“Ah… Good then, I— _fuck_ , Akira, please…” Akira just snorts out a little laugh around his mouthful and sucks harder. It’s heady enough that he barely notices the fingers sliding up his leg and up the cleft of his ass. When they start to dip between, he twists a hand in his tormentor's hair with an involuntary hiss. He expects a rebuke, but Akira just pulls off his cock teasingly slow and smiles.

“Changed your mind?” His expression is completely sincere, and it’s making a tangled confusion settle in Goro’s chest. Is he forfeiting their little game now? Not that it would matter at this point, he’s aching for more of this, more of the bratty thief’s mouth and his bright, gentle hands, and his body warm against his own.

“No… Go on.” Goro growls. He just needs to get off. That’s all. That’s all any of this is.

His rationalization collapses when Akira rolls off his legs and slithers up to pull him over onto his side, hooks Goro’s leg over his hip so he’s spread open and vulnerable. When those red-gloved hands return to their work, he shudders from head to toe and nuzzles into Akira’s neck, suddenly, inexplicably desperate to be close. Akira just kisses his hair and keeps pumping him with slow, sure strokes, his other hand sliding down the sensitive plane of his flank to find his ass again. When fingertips dip between his cheeks and tease up and down, light and deliberate, not even trying to slip inside him, he shudders again, presses closer to the strangely comforting plane of the other boy’s chest.

“There...” he can feel him murmur, low and soft, “that’s better...” The slow, careful pressure feels like it’s winding something inside him until it’s taut and quivering, ready to snap. He digs his nails into Akira’s side and moans, hungry and pleading. Akira kisses his hair again and disentangles himself to grab the bottle again. “Just a second...” Goro shudders and sighs as Akira pulls away from him. He doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to look at the other boy right now, lest the shame and horror the pleasure’s been keeping at bay start to catch up with him. What the hell is he doing, leaving himself open like this? Doesn’t matter. Don’t think about it right now. Don’t think.

And then Akira’s wriggling back into position next to him and wrapping a newly-slick hand around his cock and there’s no room left in his brain for anxiety. He guides his leg up higher, shifts Goro’s body around so gently he hardly notices. Until he takes hold of his chin and pulls his face out of the pillow so he can kiss him. He relaxes into it, a little sigh caught in his throat. This is fine. This is good. Nothing to worry about this time. When Akira’s hand moves down, probing at him again, it doesn’t even startle him. He closes his eyes and shifts a little to let his rival have better access, tucks that fluffy dark head under his chin. Akira purrs against his throat and nuzzles at him like a cat, a gesture so sweet and harmless it almost makes him laugh. When the hand gripping him tightens, quickens, and those slick, gentle fingers finally start to slip inside him, he cries out helplessly and clutches the other boy closer, tightens his hand in his thick, unruly hair. His animal consciousness doesn’t miss the little tremor in Akira’s shoulders, the way he pauses for a second to moan hot against his neck before going back to his work with a hungry fervor.

Two fingers are moving inside him now, sliding in slow and insistent until they’re as deep as they can go, and he groans at the feeling, the sudden realization of it. It doesn’t hurt. For once, it doesn’t hurt. There’s just aching, bone-deep pleasure inside and out, radiating through his body like he’s never felt before. The feel of Akira’s hand on his cock, his fingers curling slowly deep inside him, echo each other in a feedback loop that swells to touch every nerve, every little nook and cranny of his body. He’s squirming against his lover, clawing at his hair and his shoulders and whimpering as he grinds down against those hands, those sweet slick hands of fire bringing him closer, painting him into a corner, trapping him in an undertow of heady, swirling pleasure.

Akira’s fingers are thrusting up to meet his hips as they grind down in needy desperation, moving more firmly, faster, and he can feel every warm, aching centimeter of them inside him and the bubble of aching gorgeousness in him is growing, hot wildfire under his skin until—

When he comes, he comes with everything he has left. Distantly, he can hear himself sobbing into Akira’s hair, feel his hips twitching and stuttering as he he spills himself, but it’s all eclipsed by the breaking wave of orgasm lighting him up, pulsing inside him on and on and on for longer than he’s ever dreamed, like it might never end, like he’ll be in this beautiful purgatory until the end of time.

But it does end, washes him back up on the shore of reality and retreats, slow and gradual as it started. Akira slides his hand up the length of his cock firmly, milking the last few drops out of him and leaving him shuddering. Ever-so-slowly, he eases his fingers out, leaving a deep, pleasant ache inside him in their wake. Shakily, he lets go of Akira, wincing a little to see the marks of his nails in the other boy’s shoulder, the scattering of dark hairs loose in his palm. Goro feels soft lips on his neck again, and looks up in time to see him sitting up a bit, neatly pulling off the gloves so they’re cleanly inside out before tossing them over the side of the bed. He can’t bring himself to move, can only watch with floating, mindless fascination. Akira’s rolling and stretching his wrists, flexing long fingers and smiling down at him in a way that sends another helpless shudder down Goro’s half-melted body. When he gathers him back up into his arms and kisses him, he can only nestle close and sigh. He should be on edge like this, but can’t find it in him to feel anything but… contentment. He’s _content_. Sated, even. What an alien feeling.

Sweet as the embrace is, though, he can feel Akira’s cock pressed against his thigh, hot and hard. Without even thinking about it, he reaches down to take him in hand and return the favor. It feels like only a moment before Akira is bucking against his hand, swearing low and desperate as he comes.

“Fuck… Goro...” he moans into his hair, crushing him to his chest without a care for the sticky mess between them. “That… that was incredible…” Goro can only manage to laugh.

The intensity that thrums between them is slowly fading, the high tide of it retreating in gentle waves. Akira’s running one hand up and down his back, slow and languid. He kisses Goro’s forehead, and he looks up at him in surprise. For once, the look on his face is genuine happiness, not the usual sardonic smirk or perpetual frown. The strange, uneasy feeling is starting to return to Goro’s gut now, though. These are uncharted waters for him. Every moment of this encounter is hanging askew in his mind, balancing on tenterhooks, strange and surreal.

“Why…?” he croaks into the soft skin of Akira’s neck, when he can finally manage to form words.

“Why what?” he says cheerfully, nuzzling at Goro’s hair and scratching lightly at his scalp. It’s _weird_ , how happy Akira seems, and it makes him feel off-balance.

“Just… why…? Why so, ah… soft…?” He’s not really making sense, he knows. But coherent speech is failing him right now. Akira kisses him again, making him shiver and moan.

“Hmmm? What were you expecting, me to fuck you dry and then kick you out?” He feels laughter bubbling in the other boy’s chest as he says this, and just like that, the warm bubble pops. Reality slaps him across the face, ice cold.

_How can he say that so carelessly?_

Akechi can’t move. He’s frozen in Kurusu’s arms, trapped as his mind runs screaming in circles. Was that a threat? He’s just fucking with him, isn’t he? Holding it over his head how vulnerable he is, gleefully rubbing his nose in his own foolish moment of weakness. Dimly, he feels the other boy running a hand up and down his spine, soft lips burning on his forehead, his cheek. He’s shaking against him again, laughing again. Laughing at him. And he can’t move. He can’t move he can’t move he can’t—

“M’just joking, I’m glad you like—”

“Don’t _fucking_ toy with me.” He forces his numb limbs to move,rips himself out ofKurusu’s arms, starts to try to straighten his hair and pull himself back together. Piece by piece, he reconstructs his shredded dignity. His clothes are right there, so he’ll just get out of bed and—Kurusu’s hands are suddenly iron-tight on his forearms. The joy on his face has dissolved back into the usual seriousness, his eyes hard and knowingas he stares him full in the face. What is he playing at now?

“Fuck… Goro…” His voice is soft, haunted, confused even. “ Goro… What did I do...?” Akechi doesn’t try to struggle out of his grip, but he can’t help the vicious glare, the snarl on his lips.

“ _Fuck you_ , Kurusu. Don’t play dumb with me. And don’t call me that—nng!”

His breath is ripped out of him as Kurusu grabs him around the shoulders to pull him back down against his chest, clutching at him obnoxiously tight, pinning him against his body like a vice. Akechi can feel himself shaking against him; whether from shame or anger, he’s not sure.

“Whatever it is, I’m sorry… Stay here tonight, we can talk. Please.” His voice is even rougher than before, deep and quivering. His nails dig gently into Akechi’s scalp, up and down his spine. _Lies_. He’s trying to get more information out of him. This manipulative little… “You—you don’t have to. But I’d like it. Please,” Kurusu murmurs against his skin, soft but insistent. No. _No._ He won’t be trapped like this, at the mercy of his enemy. He settles the familiar, mask of cold professionalism back into place, comforting in its icy distance.

“No. I’m afraid have a full schedule tomorrow, I can’t just turn that on its ear. Thank you, but I’ll be leaving now.” He wrenches himself out of Kurusu’s grip once again and fairly leaps out of bed, quickly scrubbing the mess off himself with Kurusu’s shirt before grabbing up his clothes and yanking them on as quick as he can. He tries not to look at his rival, sitting up now to kneel naked on the bed, open and beautiful and unashamed.

“Goro. You don’t have to go. You know that. Please, just talk to me.” His voice is sweet and soft and pleading and purely, callouslydesigned to draw him back in. He won’t give in to such manipulation. He won’t. Not again. Not ever again.

“Goodnight, _Kurusu._ I’ll see you at our next infiltration.”

“Goro, wait, please—!” He doesn’t listen. It doesn’t matter. He’s sweeping his way down the stairs and out of the cafe without another look behind him. Goodnight, Kurusu. Goodnight.

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow, I keep writing Akechi POV stuff? Maybe I'm just a sadist. 
> 
> Come see me on [tumblr](bubblebangbaby.tumblr.com) for more random 80s postpunk and headcanons about the maladaptive emotional responses of video game characters.


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